Celebrating Voldemort's Downfall
by Iva1201
Summary: Exactly what the title says - or maybe not. Early November 1981, Snape mourning Lily, old Albus no longer needing his spy and several of Hogwarts staff trying to accept the Death Eather between them.
1. Chapter 1

**Celebrating Voldemort's Downfall**

**by Iva1201**

_A/N: In all probability, this won't be a long fic so I will leave it unbetaed – my regular readers know that English is not my native language; my new readers are warned hereby. Thanks and enjoy! (-: _

_All characters belong to JKR, sure, I just like to play with them. (-: _

ooooo

**Chapter 1: Overdose**

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Early November 1981_

Albus Dumbledore didn't like Severus Snape. It wasn't much the fact that the young man was a Slytherin – Dumbledore liked to think that he wasn't as biased against that House and its qualities as some of its members thought. After all, he had been friends with the more than a little cunning Horace Slughorn since more years than either of them had cared to count. No, it were rather Severus Snape's unfortunate choices that made Dumbledore disgusted with the boy – such as he had openly said to Snape some time ago.

In Albus Dumbledore's eyes, Severus Snape had it entirely too easy. The boy had committed crimes and very probably had lives on his conscience – a fact that Dumbledore didn't desire to get confirmed for the time-being –, but since he came to Dumbledore just in time when the Order _desperately_ needed a spy in Voldemort's circle, Snape didn't have to even as much as speak with the Aurors. A proper hearing before the Wizengamot was out of question, too – a spy was of worth only when he remained a secret to most.

No, there were simply no real consequences of the young man's atrocities, Dumbledore thought with disgust. The only thing Snape had to do was to come to him, his _benevolent _old Headmaster, confess his one crime against Lily Potter and he was cleared of all his sins – at least so Dumbledore felt it. When the old man compared Snape's apparent indifference with what_ the Death Eater,_ for Heaven's sake!, had done with his own desperation over Ariana's death and the sick feeling he had had _for years!_ after his short allegiance with the Darkness, the aged Headmaster often thought the youth hadn't earned any forgiveness at all.

When Snape repeatedly asked to be allowed to see Lily Potter and excuse to her, this was also one of the reasons why Albus Dumbledore never allowed it. The old wizard felt that such a minor punishment was only well earned – and if the boy proved himself, there would be enough time for him to reconcile with his childhood friend after the war. Not that the old wizard thought it very likely that Snape wouldn't relapse earlier than it ended!

But then the war suddenly and unexpectedly finished. Lily Potter and her husband were both dead, mourned by the whole wizarding world and quite unpredictably leaving Dumbledore with two grief-stricken boys.

From these two, the toddler Harry had it easier, despite the fact that Petunia Dursley heavily protested against his placement with her family. As Dumbledore soon found out, she remembered only too well the address to which she had once sent her pleading missive to be accepted at Hogwarts; the traffic between Muggle Contact Service Point in Hogsmeade and Hogwarts becoming uncomfortably frequent in the last few days...

The other boy, just over twenty and now a real _ex-_Death Eater no matter his true intentions, whom the old Headmaster didn't like and who he hadn't believed to had sincerely turned before, broke down the moment Dumbledore informed him that his childhood friend was dead.

The Headmaster understood that Snape's tears over the loss of Lily Potter were sincere, but he still didn't find it in himself to feel compassion for the boy who had openly declared that Lily's family hadn't mattered to him. In some twisted satisfaction, the aged wizard nodded in approval at the young man's tears and after he had lured a promise to protect Lily's son out of the Slytherin, he left Snape to his grief and – more importantly, as he thought – bad conscience.

It would serve Severus Snape well to understand how his deeds in Lord Voldemort's service had (and might have) harmed people, Dumbledore thought, determined that now that Lord Voldemort was gone and spies were no longer needed, the dark Slytherin would stand his trial. A couple of weeks in Azkaban wouldn't go amiss either...

ooooo

The whole Hogwarts and Hogsmeade was celebrating the Dark Lord's fall; the fireworks resonating in the walls of the castle, no matter how many sound-proof charms Severus had cast on them. Snape frowned at his wand and flicked with it resignedly in the direction of the windows so that he _at the very least_ wouldn't see the bright explosions above the village. _The world had gone mad,_ he thought, hating it all, and Dumbledore especially.

The nerve of the man – inviting him up to his office with his usual simple note as if nothing was out of ordinary and there, with a _relieved smile!, _telling Severus that the Dark Lord had fallen, sadly with the cost of Lily's (and Potter's, though James hadn't mattered to him at all) life!

Had the old man been hoping to enrage Severus to have a good reason to kick him out of Hogwarts now that he had no longer been needed? Or had he possibly thought this would awake Severus's conscience? Hadn't the man seen that that had happened already half a year ago?

In all probability no – Severus was after all no immature acting, but in reality _brave_ Gryffindor of his. No, the Slytherins were simply not redeemable in Albus Dumbledore's eyes – or why the man had never allowed Severus to _briefly_ visit Lily (Snape hadn't asked for more, not believing it possible) and beg her for forgiveness. To have heard _her_ telling him that he was not solely guilty if something should happen to her would have meant much to him at present – though it wouldn't have changed anything on the way how he felt.

For him, the world had ended – Lily was dead; thanks to Dumbledore not knowing he had attempted to save her, the whelp of hers and even Potter senior, no matter how much he had despised the self-centric Gryff... His best friend had died believing him to still be a Death Eater, the fact paining Severus more than her death itself. _To hell with Dumbledore,_ he thought, the tears stinging his eyes now ones of anger rather than grief.

Hours later, Snape was still lying awake in his bed, the sound of the fireworks no longer disturbing him. The rage had disappeared and now he felt only overwhelming sadness. Had he not promised to Dumbledore that he would protect Lily's son, he would have been very tempted to try one of the remaining poisons he had brewed for the Dark Lord. As things stood, however, his only choice was some pain-numbing brew or a sleeping draught...

Snape stumbled out of his messy covers and soon went through the potions on his bathroom shelves. Madam Pomfrey had confiscated his Dreamless Sleep stocks after he had consumed too many vials in row for her liking some time ago, but he still had a rather wide choice of other potions, ranking from potent pain-killers to various mild sleeping aids Madam Pomfrey had approved of.

In the back of the top most shelf, there sat an emergency kit Severus had added to his private stocks at the end of the summer – a box containing Draught of the Living Death and several illegal antidotes (the brews containing always an additive taken from a human corpse, corresponding with the nature of the poisons the Dark Lord had preferred to use of lately). Catching the sight of the box, Snape gave out a relieved sigh. _Draught of the Living Dead shall do, _he nodded and, opening the kit, pulled out not one but two vials of the brew, downing the first while walking back to the bedroom.

The second vial shattered half-empty in his hand, as he fell to the floor the moment the first helping of the Draught made it to his stomach. _Quite a potent brew,_ was his last thought, before he knew no more...

ooooo

Madam Pomfrey searched her stocks for another vial of Stomach-Settling Draught, while the child behind her continued to retch. _Butterbeer,_ she thought disgusted,_ for eleven year olds! What was Dumbledore thinking in Merlin's name? _This was already sixteenth or seventeenth (she had lost the count) first or second year that visited her that night, the stomachs of the small children unaccustomed even to the mild alcohol scent in the drink.

Not finding another vial of the remedy (no wonder there, her stocks were by no means prepared for You-Know-Who's downfall!), she turned to the pale child behind her, weighting her options. She could put the boy to sleep – but that would mean sitting with him while he might still retch and that was something she couldn't very well afford unless the stream of sick children would stop. She didn't expect it to happen soon... She could also empty the stomach of the child at once while using her wand or some of her harsher potions – but both the methods tore on the tissues of the treated person, making the process particularly harmful, and she was quite unwilling to apply it on a twelve-year old.

That left the last option – one she tried to avoid. She would need to contact the present Potions Master of the school, Severus Snape, and ask him to deliver her his emergency stocks or brew a new supply of the potion right now...

Poppy didn't really want to do it – she might have repeatedly treated Severus Snape as a student here at Hogwarts and even a couple of times after he had rejoined the school as a Professor – but his cold demeanor and hostile habits had made it exceedingly difficult for her to behave other than strictly professional to him. Yes, she had checked him on overdose for Dreamless Sleep when Dumbledore had mentioned to her that the boy had suffered of insomnia; yes, she had even confiscated his stocks of the remedy and prescribed him to brew milder sleeping helps for himself – but that all was only her job.

Until now, she hadn't needed to interact with him otherwise – a fact she was deeply grateful for. God bless dear old Horace for brewing as much as he had for her this last summer! But even the old Slytherin Head of House (a position Horace thankfully still kept, although he spent most of his time out of Hogwarts and dedicated himself to his research projects rather than teaching or brewing for the school) couldn't have foreseen this latest mad idea of Albus Dumbledore...

Another two pale children entered her ward and interrupted Madam Pomfrey's musing – Poppy sighed resignedly and while waving them to one of the empty beds, she briefly entered her office to check on her emergency teachers' whereabouts board, functioning on the very same principle as a family whereabouts clock – validating that the Potions Master indeed was in his quarters.

Once sure about that, Pomfrey stepped to the Fireplace and throwing a handful of Floo Powder in the low flames, she exclaimed: "Severus Snape's Quarters!"

ooooo

"Professor Snape!" Madam Pomfrey called into the green glittering flames and while waiting for the answer, she summoned two buckets and sheets for the newcomers, sending them with a flick of her wand towards the children who shivered on the bed, their faces green with sickness. _Put the blankets around you,_ she motioned wordlessly while she waited for the Potions Master's reply to her call, and the children followed her orders.

When nothing happened on the other side of the Floo connection for a minute or so, Madam Pomfrey sighed. Her voice alone had clearly not been enough to wake the young Potions Professor – another thing for which she would miss the light sleeping Horace. She pointed her wand on her neck and commanded: "Sonorus." With much stronger voice, she shouted in the flames once more: "Professor Snape, you are needed in the infirmary. Please, come up. _Immediately!"_

Sure that her enhanced voice would awake even dead, Poppy Pomfrey turned from the fireplace to treat her new patients, while leaving the connection open for the expected arrival of the Potions Professor.

With a quick flick of her wand, the nurse undid the Sonorus charm and kindly asked the two children in her normal, gentle tone of voice: "Too much butterbeer, right? Professor Snape shall deliver the Stomach Settling Potion for you in a moment." _Or brew it, if he has no stocks himself,_ she added for herself, not wanting to mention the possibility to the children just yet.

ooooo

Holding the long curls of one of the girls back while she emptied her stomach some five minutes later, Madam Pomfrey cursed Severus Snape for his slowness. Not that Horace would not be comfortable himself – but this had reached all boundaries. The teachers' whereabouts board had clearly said that Snape had been in his quarters – and her voice must have waken him. _Why then, in Merlin's name, the man hasn't been there yet?_

Pomfrey helped the girl clean her face and wash her mouth out with some water. Patting the child's shoulder for comfort, the nurse excused herself for a moment: "I will be right back. Don't worry. It will be better soon."

The Fireplace in her office still glittered with green flames and Madam Pomfrey resignedly knelt in front of it and looked through the flames into Severus Snape's dungeons quarters. For a moment, all she could see was just darkness. Then her eyes adjusted and she took in the Spartan furnished sitting room. Nothing out of ordinary here, even though the bed behind the open threshold to the adjoined bedroom was clearly empty. Snape must have been on his way up to the infirmary, walking rather than Flooing, Poppy Pomfrey sighed with relief and wanted to withdraw from the flames, her knees already starting to hurt.

Taking in the room on the other side of the flames one last time, the nurse was however to freeze in shock: a pale arm was stretched out on the floor behind the battered looking armchair. Unlike family whereabouts clock, her board only gave her the location of Hogwarts Professors, not their condition. Could Snape be injured or even dead? Dumbledore had told her that the boy had once been a Death Eater when Snape had injured his arm and she had found his Dark Mark. The Headmaster had believed him to have repented – but maybe Snape only pretended that and killed himself when You-Know-Who disappeared from the scene?

Madam Pomfrey forced the disturbing thought away. Be it as may, her task now was not to muse on Snape's choices but rather help him – if he was still alive...

"Emergency House Elf on duty to the infirmary!" Pomfrey called, as soon as she emerged out of the flames, gathering together her emergency kit and summoning her antidotes. Unlike Severus Snape, the tiny creature with large ears she had called for appeared almost immediately, bowing its head and asking for instructions.

"Three children with upset stomachs in the ward, untreated and have to remain so until I am delivered new stock of Stomach Settling Draught," Madam Pomfrey explained to the obedient creature, thankful for its assistance. "Help them if they should vomit and clean their faces and help them wash out their mouth when they are done. A Professor has taken ill – I will tend to him and come back up here as soon as I am finished. When I am needed sooner, you know the rules."

The Elf nodded eagerly back, ensuring: "I knowing the rules. I summon Mrs. Nurse when a student take ill."

"Very good. Thank you, dear," Poppy Pomfrey said and armed with her supplies stepped over to the Fireplace and into the still slightly green glittering flames. For the way back, she would need to refresh the connection but to get down to Severus Snape's quarters, this remaining power of the Floo should still do.

ooooo

Hastily approaching the collapsed young Professor down in his dungeon quarters, fearing for his life, Madam Pomfrey found herself breathing out in relief when she noticed the slight movement of the boy's chest up and down. Snape was still alive then and she still might pull him through – if she would soon find out what exactly had happened to him, that was it.

Pulling out her wand, Madam Pomfrey knelt next to the young man, waving her wand over Snape's far too slim body. Exhaustation and depression were her first readings, though there was more – poisoning of some sort, mild and at present not exactly endangering the young wizard's life but not safe either.

_What have you taken?_ Pomfrey mused, staring pensively at Snape's pale face. _Far too pale even for him, and the slight trembling of his extremities – not the Cruciatus that would have affected the whole body, but none of standard poisonings, Muggle and wizard alike, either._

Her eyes fell on the floor where something glittered silvery, drawing her sight and she spotted a half-shattered vial with several remaining drops of a potion. The nurse pulled out a clean tissue from her pocket and reached over for the tiny container, sniffing it carefully. It reminded her of Dreamless Sleep though the Valerian scent was much too transparent in this brew.

A wave of her wand over the vial – and she gasped. _Draught of the Living Death! Has the boy gone mad?_ _His body has not yet fully recovered from the Dreamless Sleep overdose, no matter what he thought about her and Dumbledore being mother-hens, and he takes an even more potent brew to ruin all the curative process and even deepen the poisoning! If he had taken more than the standard dose of the potion _– Poppy strongly suspected so –_ he would be on the verge of a long-term coma now, with his body so pumped up with the sedating substances. _Pomfrey shivered, sadly too familiar with the consequences for a body in such a case.

_I am not letting this happen,_ she resolved and merciless, hit the boy's cheek, one, two, three times – hard. "Wake up, you thick boy, right now! _Wake up!"_ She shook him by shoulder. "You need to get up and move – no more sleeping –, so that your body can metabolize the potion before the hypnotics would worsen your previous poisoning – _do you hear me, Severus Snape!"_ Again, she shook him and finally was rewarded with an eye opening.

She nodded satisfiedly, and informed him matter-of-factly: "You might have died, Mr. Snape. I hope you are aware of that. Up with you now!"

_"Why can't you let me be in peace__!"_ Snape complained grumpily, his eyes still half closed and he remaining still. "If I was dead, it would have mattered to no one – I am a bloody Death Eater, _remember?"_

Pomfrey frowned. "I am not going to deny _that,_ young man, the tattoo on your arm is proof enough. But you will get up and walk with me no matter what – I am your Healer and I will not have your life on my conscience. Up with you!" She pulled him by arm, but he was too heavy for her when he decided not to cooperate with her. _"Severus Snape!"_ she scolded and bowed over his again comatose figure. "I will call the Headmaster!"

Snape gave out a bitter, resigned laugh. "Oh, _please,_ do it. He doesn't give a damn, Madam, you know?" Irony was dripping out of his weakening voice.

Poppy stared at him disbelievingly for a moment. _The Headmaster not caring for his protégé?_ _What a nonsense!_

When Snape's colour started to fade again, his eyes remaining closed, she nonetheless decided not to argue with him over that. Kneeling next to him once again, she said resolutely: "No matter what you believe about Dumbledore, Mr. Snape, _I do give a damn_ – and you are not dying nor falling in coma on my duty." She cast a levitation charm on him. _There, that will help to make him stand …_

A moment later, she led him by arm around the room, careful so that he didn't hurt himself while stumbling on her side, his eyes half-closed with sleepiness. _Some really strong coffee might help,_ she mused, planning to order some later. At the moment, she needed to get his attention somehow, so that not only his body but also his brain would start to recover from this latest foolishness of his.

"Have you intended to kill yourself?" she asked harshly with that in mind, hoping that she knew the right (negative) answer – but not letting him to see that. "You are a Potions Master, for Merlin's sake! Don't you know what a prolonged use of addictive hypnotics may do to your body and brain! _Mr. Snape!"_ Her fingers painfully bored into his arm, getting him to weary gaze at her.

_"Potions Master?"_ He gave out a bitter laugh. "Let me correct you, Madam – Poisons Master, Madam, p-o-i-s-o-n-s. If I have indeed intended to kill myself, believe me, I would have had ways you wouldn't even dream about."

Poppy breathed out in relief. _Excellent, then this point is solved. For the time-being, anyway._ She recalled her wand reading. Much else was wrong with the boy, but here and now she could only help with this.

Wordlessly, they wandered around the room for another minute or so, Snape finally appearing slightly awake.

"What have you meant with Dumbledore not giving a damn?" Pomfrey asked when his eyes turned weary again.

Snape shook his head faintly. "That's not important," he said.

"Isn't it?" She wondered aloud, keen on keeping his attention. _"Why_ have you said it then?"

He gazed at her with disgust and she thought she would celebrate – her tactic was clearly working.

"I am no longer of use to him, Madam," Snape explained as if she was a particularly dense child. "And I might not be for another ten years. I would bet with you that he would gladly send me to Azkaban now."

"I don't believe you. Dumbledore is not like that," Pomfrey said, confused, but before she could add anything else to explain her point of view, the House Elf she had left in the infirmary appeared in front of her, breathlessly informing her: "Students – three – they fighting. Everywhere blood. Madam Nurse come now!"

Poppy Pomfrey froze. Now, this was something she had feared – clearly some fight between Slytherin and one of the three remaining Houses. Uncertainly, she gazed at the pale young Professor – the children needed to come first but he wasn't exactly alright either.

Understanding, Snape nodded, "Go. I won't take anything else." _Not right now, anyway, _the Occlumens in him added to make his statement a half-truth.

Pomfrey reluctantly nodded, leading him over to the sofa and making him to sit there."Bring him coffee, dear." She turned to the Emergency Elf. "Very strong. And keep an eye on him." _I am not absolutely sure he is not lying to me._ With one last glance at the pale young man she tossed Floo powder into the low flames in the grate and was gone as soon as the Floo connection opened.

ooooo


	2. Chapter 2

**Celebrating Voldemort's Downfall**

**Chapter 2**

**by Iva1201**

_A/N: The disclaimer and A/N from Ch. 1 apply also to this part of this story (still not mine and still not betaed (-:). I thank you for the kind reviews for Ch. 1 and wish you to enjoy this new installment of mine. (-:_

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_Hogwarts_

_Early November 1981_

Madam Pomfrey emerged out of the Floo several floors higher, in the office adjoining the infirmary, and startled. Through the open doorway leading from her office into the main ward of the hospital wing, she got the first glimpse of the fighting three children the Emergency House Elf had reported to her about.

Unlike she had expected they weren't Slytherins fighting a Gryffindor – or Gryffindors teasing a Slytherin for that matter, but two Huffelpuffs _– those kindest creatures between their students!_ – fighting a much smaller and obviously worse hurt Slytherin boy. In the middle of the agitated, insults exchanging group, stood Pomona Sprout, uncharacteristically shouting reprimands onto both sides and trying to keep the enraged children in the safe distance from each other.

"Poppy, I am _so happy_ to see you," the Herbology Professor breathed out in relief as soon as she spotted the now swiftly approaching nurse. "I really don't know what I should do with them. Blast Dumbledore for having ordered all the Butterbeer…"

"…and Aberforth for having delivered it," Pomfrey nodded in agreement, her eyes turning to the other infirmed children, who still looked very sick as they lay or sat curled in their beds. Poppy sighed, knowing that she couldn't do anything for them, feeling worse for that. But until Snape recovered himself, there was no way to obtain the remedies she needed for them – and she knew well that any other treatment would be only harsher on her small patients. _Damn on Dumbledore for getting me such an unreliable brewer!_ The insult went quite unwillingly through Pomfrey's head, before she forcefully suppressed the thought, reminding herself that the young Professor wasn't well himself and turned her attention back to Pomona and her charges.

"I will take the Slytherin, Huffelpuffs are rightfully yours." The nurse smirked in the direction of the two older students, who were immediately captured by hand by Pomona, freed now of the third child, and led to the opposite side of the room. Once there, Sprout better charmed her students loosely bound to the awaiting beds and from the distance watched Poppy's work.

The nurse acted much the same with the Slytherin boy; with the only difference that once the boy was seated and secured on the bed, she instantly started to fix him. Broken nose and a building black eye, several broken small bones in the left hand and pretty many bruises was her first reading; alcohol poisoning the second – _no wonder there,_ she sighed, repairing the forth-year's nose and charming his face clean of blood.

Leaving the boy half-treated, since she didn't have any more potion suitable to treat alcohol poisoning on hand either, Madam Pomfrey walked over to the other end of the ward, on her way there smiling reassuringly at her smaller, now sadly not only sick but also frightened looking patients.

Pomona's Huffelpuffs managed to calm themselves somewhat while Poppy had been occupied with their Slytherin adversary, so the nurse had an easy job with them now, overlooking the fact the two teenagers had started the fight in the first place and had hurt the smaller boy very probably only because he was a Slytherin. To be absolutely honest, Pomfrey longed to shout on them, but refrained from it – reminding herself of the scarred looks on the faces of the smaller kids.

Patching these two was actually easy – a few scratches here and there, none of them bleeding much. Poppy cleaned and dressed the wounds that required her attention; then stood back, eyeing the two sternly.

"It will take at least a week for your classmate to regain full use of that hand. I hope you are satisfied with yourself, _gentlemen."_ Pomfrey's words literally whipped the Huffelpuffs, while the nurse readied her wand for their next treatment. "Let us hope that suffering through the aftereffects of a Sobering Charm will teach you a lesson." She aimed her wand at the first mischief-maker, running it down along his body and pronouncing a clear: "Sobrius." A second later, she repeated the treatment on the second boy.

"There, all done." Poppy nodded satisfied when the gazes of the two teenagers lost their slightly glassy look and the boys became alert again. "This is the fastest way how to make one sober again, though there is going to be a price for it. I will give you a potion for the headache but you will have to suffer through the rest. Our Deputy Headmistress would tell you to enjoy it and be grateful that you are not a girl to struggle with these pleasures each month."

The nurse summoned two Headache Potion vials then, handing them to the pair, followed up by a set of Sleeping Draughts that she placed on the night table between their beds. "Don't take these two until I tell you it's safe." Madam Pomfrey waved her hand in the direction of the night table, leaving the teenagers in Sprout's care. Armed with several more vials of the sleeping aid, she approached her smaller patients, examinating them anew and helping them to get down the Sleeping Draughts, so that they could get at least a bit of rest.

Finally, the small children were all settled for the night, as comfortable as Poppy could only make them with the lack of the potions to treat them properly. Madam Pomfrey brought the last Sleeping Draught vial to the Slytherin boy at the far end of the infirmary and then nodded at Pomona and her Huffelpuffs sweating now profoundly in their beds that they could take the brew now too. Seeing those two downing the bitter potion eagerly in one go, clearly not enjoying their current condition, she smiled discreetly and disappeared in the bathroom.

Pomona Sprout had a more difficult time to hide her smirk over her students' reaction, sitting just next to them. She better stood up and walked away from their beds, using the time before Poppy returned to call for a Kitchen House Elf to provide them with tea.

ooooo

Reentering the ward a couple of minutes later, Pomfrey ran a weary hand over her tired eyes and thankfully took the empty seat prepared for her next to Sprout, smiling gratefully at her friend when Pomona handed her a cup full of steaming tea.

"Thank you, Pomona. It has been a long day." Madam Pomfrey leaned back in her chair, warming her cold hands on the frail looking china.

The Herbology Professor nodded in agreement, sipping on her own tea. "It certainly has. Hopefully tomorrow will be better. Not that I hold my hopes high with our Headmaster's _splendid_ ideas and all the madness the end of the war brought with itself..."

They both kept silent for several minutes, feeling the last statement hadn't required any other commentary. The peaceful quiet of the ward being interrupted only by the soft breathing of the slumbering children and an occasional sound of the metal of a spoon meeting the china of one of their cups, Poppy started to relax, finally able to distance herself from all the turmoil of the ending day.

The nurse was about to forget even about Snape's ill-timed undependability, when Pomona asked curiously: "I have wanted to ask you all the time, Poppy – I fully understand that you cannot brew the potions you need by yourself with all this traffic up here, but why Snape can't do it for you? The boy is certainly skilled enough, whatever I may think about his ill manners and his _mysterious _getting a job here otherwise."

Madame Pomfrey sighed. "He has taken ill himself, Pomona. Trust me, I would have asked him to brew the potions for me otherwise."

"Nothing serious, I hope?" Pomona Sprout asked, her voice suddenly worried despite her previous harsh words on the address of the young Potions master.

Poppy Pomfrey eyed her for a moment, torn between keeping her patient's privacy and her own need to share with her friend. Finally, she decided on the latter, knowing Sprout would not deliberately spread the information. She waved her wand around them to activate a Privacy Charm and said: "Not really, I hope at least. The boy only saw it fit to overdose on Dreamless Sleep – _again_, I may add. One would almost wonder if the end of the war was unwelcome to him…"

Pomona Sprout pondered about Poppy's words for a moment. Then she quietly offered: "He used to be friends with Lily Potter, Poppy, do you remember? I don't think they have ever reconciled, whatever happened in their fifth – or was it sixth? – year. Maybe he mourns her?"

"Quite possibly... I have almost forgotten they used to be so close." Poppy nodded, her voice somewhat relieved. "I _really_ hope you are right, Pomona. You don't wish to know what occurred to me..."

"Oh Poppy, I think I have a rather good idea what you could have thought." Sprout waved her hand dismissively. "I don't think Dumbledore would have given the boy the job here if that was true. Whatever the man is – and I don't think very high of him right now, you know – he wouldn't employ a sympathizer of You-Know-Who here."

"You hope," Madam Pomfrey mumbled, well aware of the dark magic tattoo on Snape's left forearm.

"No, Poppy, I trust Dumbledore in this," Sprout said seriously. "There are some vows the head of Hogwarts has to undertake when entering the office and consciously endangering the school would break more than one of those promises. Believe me the school has mechanisms to protect itself when a Headmaster acts against its interests..."

"I only hope the system is reliable enough," Madam Pomfrey murmured, not particularly satisfied with the explanation.

"Poppy, don't tell me you have never read _Hogwarts, The History!_" Sprout smiled mischievously, teasing her friend a little to lighten the mood – she knew very well the nurse never had the patience to read that particular bulky tome. More seriously she explained: "There are some nasty examples as to what happened to those who did not respect this quality of Hogwarts in the past. Just to give you one case, a mild one I may add – you will know Dilys Derwent, I am sure. When she became Headmistress here, she ordered her nurse to take in a plague patient whom she had known to be a Dark practitioner. While Derwent decided to admit him anyway, the school felt her uncertainty that this wizard's intentions wouldn't turn against it and its inhabitants in the end. On its own will, Hogwarts Apparated the man to St. Mungo's, where he eventually died of the plague, although all necessary care was provided for him. Dying, the man cursed his caregivers and it took over a week for the hospital curse-breakers to find a counter – the plague ward of St. Mungo's being blocked the entire time. Had it happened in Hogwarts, all the infirmed would have died – the nurse and Derwent herself the only ones remaining in the castle during the holidays and providing care for numerous Hogsmeade patients."

Madam Pomfrey slowly nodded: "I have heard this story myself. _But,_ Pomona, don't you think Hogwarts would only act this way when the Headmaster _himself_ felt he was doing wrong?"

Sprout eyed her silently for a moment, clearly taken aback. "Good point, Poppy," she murmured then uncertainly. "I think that that is actually the idea – the school being linked to its head and reading his fears and intentions..."

"...so if Snape was a supporter of You-Know-Who but Dumbledore believed his giving him a job here would actually mean some sort of protection for the school, Hogwarts would have allowed him to employ the boy here." Pomfrey finished with a deep frown, again suspicious of Snape's true intentions.

Sprout looked momentarily dubious herself, pondering the possible explanations. Finally, she looked up from her half-empty cup, steadily returning Poppy's upset gaze. Suddenly sounding very sure of what she was saying, Pomona opined: "The boy had been friends with Lily Potter, Poppy. He mourns _her,_ not You-Know-Who, _I am sure of that. _You know as well as I that even the genuine supporters of His are hiding their true feelings now, hoping to keep out of Azkaban. If Snape once used to be His, _and I very much fear that this is what you are trying to tell me,_ then he is – from what you tell me once again – obviously deeply sorry for the consequences of his past unfortunate deeds now. … Imagine how hurt _you would be_ if you once were a sympathizer of an organization being guilty of your close friend's death!"

"True," Poppy Pomfrey mumbled, for a moment really feeling with the boy down in the dungeons. Before she could add anything else, however, the door to the infirmary sprang open and revealed another handful of sick looking children. Pomfrey sighed: "Here we are again. Can I ask you to give me a hand once more, Pomona?"

"Sure, you can – just tell me what I am to do," Sprout smiled, promptly finishing her cup and, setting the china aside, she rose to assist the nurse.

ooooo

Down in the dungeons, Severus Snape was finishing the second cup of the much too strong coffee Madam Pomfrey prescribed for him, his doing closely observed by the saucer-sized eyes of the House Elf the nurse had left with him. As the caffeine finally kicked in and Severus became more aware of his surroundings, he realized he didn't know the small ugly creature. Startled to find his well-protected territory invaded by a stranger, House Elf or not, he asked, irritated: "You are one of the Elves assigned to the Infirmary, right? You can return there now."

The Elf in question shook its head negatively, so vehemently that its large ears flapped around its head. "No Infirmary Elf, Master Professor. I be Emergency House Elf. Infirmary Elves not in Hogwarts. They in hospital. My responsibility take care of Master Professor now."

_No Infirmary Elves at Hogwarts? _Snape wondered, momentarily forgetting he actually wanted to ask where his own Elves, those assigned to the Dungeons, were. Then he recalled that Madam Pomfrey complained at a staff meeting just about a week ago about an epidemic of dragon pox in the Ravenclaw tower; the children being infirmed at St. Mungo's infectious ward and nursed by Hogwarts Infirmary Elves since the hospital didn't have enough free nurses or Elves on hand after the latest Dark Lord's attacks.

"Where are the Dungeons Elves in that case?" Severus snapped, realizing that someone had had to summon the nurse and wanting to lash out at him for it.

"You leave them collect the moon fruit, Master Professor, they back in the morning." The Elf supplied eagerly, confusing Severus even more. _Moon fruit?_ _What the hell was that!_

"What fruit?" he murmured, feeling a headache building.

"The fruit that best at moon, Master Professor. Purple Berries." _Purple Berries? What plant had purple fruit? _Severus frowned, puzzled._ Oh, I sent the Elves collect __Magnolia Vine__,_ he recalled suddenly. Potions Masters believed it to have best qualities if collected by moon light, and he had also wanted to get rid of the annoying little creatutes_. __Damn, how could I forget?_

"What else?" Snape groaned, pulling upset at his hair.

"I not understand, Master Professor," the House Elf beeped uncertainly, disturbed that it couldn't help its master.

_"What else did I forget?"_ Severus almost shouted at the little creature, causing it to jump back and mutter _'bad elf, bad elf'_ over and over again. Snape obviously didn't mind, finishing in the same matter: "For instance: _how the hell Pomfrey got here?_ Who summoned her?"

"Mistress Nurse have children sick. Mistress Nurse needing Master Professor. Master Professor have potions Mistress Nurse need," the Elf recited dutifully, staring at Severus with those annoyingly innocent large eyes. "Master Professor sick too, Master Professor not have potions. Master Professor need strong coffee..."

Severus bowed his head somewhere around the middle of the Elf's speech, resting it in his hands. _So Pomfrey needed him – for the first time since he had started teaching here – and he made a fool of himself._ When the Elf finished, he asked quietly, now angry with himself and no longer with the Elf or Pomfrey: "Which potions? How are the children sick?"

"They drink much, very young, bad for the children stomach." The Elf looked sad, as if it was guilty of the situation itself.

"It's not your fault," Snape muttered tiredly, fearing one of the typical displays of House Elves' self-punishment. _Drink much – celebrating the Dark Lord's downfall no doubt. Not seeing the precious lives it had cost. _Severus suppressed the thought._ Not now! _He forced his thoughts back to the present. _Headache Potion, Stomach Settling Potion, Alcohol Poisoning Draught,_ he listed in his head, fighting the headache. _I should have it all. Not much, but enough for one night. _

Standing up, Severus stumbled and almost tripped over. The Elf was immediately at his side, looking scarred that he would really fall. "Master Professor not go anywhere. Master Professor need his coffee. Master Professor must sit and drink."

"Master Professor must help Mistress Nurse." Severus shook his head at the Elf. "Return to the Infirmary. I will be right there," he ordered firmly and summoning his last reserves, he walked, on willpower only, step-by-step towards his adjoining office.

ooooo


	3. Chapter 3

**Celebrating Voldemort's Downfall**

**Chapter 3**

**by Iva1201**

_A/N: It has been ages, I know. I sincerely apologize and hope you will like the new chapter of my story._

ooooo

_Hogwarts_

_Early November 1981_

If there was one thing Severus Snape was grateful for to Horace Slughorn, it was his policy to not immediately vanish the students' potions if they were of good quality and rather keep them in his stocks until a fresh batch of each of the draughts was brewed by another group of students, a routine Severus adopted for himself. In times like this, war or emergency, well-stocked potions stores were proving to be of a huge advantage. Especially if the potions master was ill or otherwise incapacitated to brew – such as he at the moment.

Despite the two mugs of strong coffee the Emergency House Elf forced him to drink on Madam Pomfrey's orders, his limbs were enormously heavy and his vision swam. That meant that the nurse was right and he really could have ended in a coma – but Severus couldn't say that he particularly cared.

Be it not for the promise to the nurse that he was not going to take anything else, a promise he decided to keep to not alienate her any further, he would have downed an Energy Potion to feel more awake. As things stood, however, he solely pocketed the vial of the Energy Potion for later and collected the potions the nurse might need to treat the children in her care and, a wooden transportation box with the potion vials in his slightly trembling hands, he made himself on his way up to the Infirmary – walking rather than Flooing, since the Floo transport would decrease the potency of the potions.

ooooo

Madam Pomfrey was upset. No, to be more precise, she was angry. She was sure that she would not remember 1st November 1981 favourably – no matter everyone else in the wizarding world celebrated You-Know-Who's downfall. First the Headmaster and his thoughtless brother provided the children with as it seemed unlimited stocks of Butterbeer, then the resident Potions Professor felt the need to overdose on the Draught of the Living Death, and now the said boy of a professor sent away the Emergency House Elf who was supposed to look after him and as it looked like disappeared from his quarters.

"Pomona, have you really looked everywhere? Have you tried the bathroom and the lab and storage room he has down there?" Madam Pomfrey questioned her friend who had just returned from a speed Floo trip down to the dungeon quarters of the young Potions master.

"Yes, Poppy, the boy is really not there," Pomona Sprout smiled patiently. "He is not lying in his bed, nor on the sofa – and the bathroom, the small room he uses for brewing and the storage room are all empty… Do you think I should try the classroom or his office? But you know, maybe he simply went out to get a bit of fresh air – I would probably do just that after consuming such a potent sleeping draught."

Poppy Pomfrey was shaking her head. "No, I do not believe he would get so far. Not with all the sedating substances still running in his veins. He must have fainted somewhere – lucky as I am today breaking a number of bones in the process. But, Pomona, mark this – the boy is by no means physically healthy and quite down mentally. I do not wish to see the consequences if he is bound to bed for a longer period of time in this state of mind."

"Then we have to hope it will not come to that," the Herbology Professor tried to calm the nurse down. "But do not loose hope yet, please. Maybe the boy is completely alright, using this unique opportunity to deduct as many points from Gryffindor as possible."

"You know I actually wish it was true," Madam Pomfrey admitted, visibly surprised with herself.

Pomona Sprout smiled: "So do I, Poppy, so do I."

ooooo

_The last staircase,_ Severus remarked in relief. He was out of breath and his heart was racing – he would be damned lucky if the nurse wouldn't recognize anything and let him return to his quarters once he delivered the potions she needed to her. But he didn't have a choice to not meet her – there was no way he would not hand her the potions over now, not after he forced himself to walk all the stairs up here while feeling so under the weather.

With the sick children resting in the Infirmary on mind, Severus waved his hand to silently and wandlessly open the door to the room and entered it. Madam Pomfrey was bent over a bed at the far end of the Infirmary hall and hadn't seen him yet. It occurred to him that he could avoid meeting her after all – if he would be quiet enough and fast, he might reach her office, dispose of his load there, leave a short message and disappear again – be it by the same way he had just come or via Floo.

Miracles were obviously happening – for Severus indeed reached the nurse's office without her spotting him. But the office was not empty as he had thought – Professor Sprout was brewing tea there, for her and the nurse as it seemed, since there were two cups standing on the table.

Unlike the nurse, the Herbology teacher looked up when the door opened and smiled at him warmly in welcome. Severus shook his head – he couldn't fathom why she seemed so happy to see him.

"Good evening, Severus," Professor Sprout greeted amiably, while charming a third cup and waving him over to a chair at the opposite side of the table. She poured the new cup full, mixing the tea with milk and honey just as he liked and was handing it over to him. "You will take tea with us, won't you?"

The words roused him from his stupor. "Thank you, Professor Sprout, but no," he declined politely, addressing her by habit as if he was still a student rather than her colleague. "I will only leave these potions for Madam Pomfrey here and shall return to my quarters." Severus was hoping that his voice sounded stronger than he was feeling – but apparently he was not so lucky…

"You will not go anywhere else tonight, young man," Poppy Pomfrey said sternly from the threshold of her office, her arms crossed over her chest to underline her strict words. "And we shall yet see about tomorrow. I take it you walked the whole way up here? Then, quite frankly, I do not understand how you can still be standing – and I will not risk you fainting in the corridors or at any of our many staircases on your way back down to the dungeons – nor you splitting yourself should this happen in the Floo. Let me say this – I would preferably not have to patch up any more students or teachers tonight. Put down the box you are caring, sit down and take the tea from Professor Sprout."

Understanding that he didn't have a choice, Severus dutifully complied, set down his load and took the offered seat. "I brought some potions you may need," he tried to pacify the enraged nurse, succeeding only marginally.

"So? Thank you for your help in that case," Poppy Pomfrey nodded, eyeing him like a hawk and leaving the potions kit unopened for the time being. "As this means that you have stopped in your stores," she started slowly, suspiciously observing the expressions displaying on his much too pale face, "may I inquire as to what other potions you have taken? Or –" Pomfrey obviously noticed that Severus was hiding something and knew him well "– what potions you carry on yourself for later consumption?"

Severus didn't bother with lying to her – he knew she would eventually find out anyway. He reached into his pocket and handed her the Energy Potion, labeled as such in his spidery handwriting.

"Thank you." Pomfrey nodded, thoughtfully studying the vial. "Anything else?" She inquired then and when he shook his head in denial, she gave him a relieved smile. "Excellent. I am very happy to hear that. As to this potion, you may have it tomorrow afternoon but for tonight, as soon as it is safe for you, I wish you would give yourself a chance to sleep this off. There are no classes tomorrow, so you may sleep in for as long as your body would require. But you are not allowed to sleep for one or two more hours, depending on how fast your body metabolizes the hypnotics you have taken. I would also prefer you spending the night up here in the teachers' private room, to be sure that you are recovering well. This doesn't stand for discussion. Are we understood?"

Severus gave an unhappy nod.

"Outstanding. In that case take the tea, Pomona's arm must be hurting already." Madam Pomfrey finished mischievously, turning to the potions transportation box and inspecting its contents. Severus, an uncharacteristical blush of embarrassment on his face, reached for his cup and dutifully sipped on the hot beverage.

When the nurse looked up at him again, once she had finished with the inspection of the potions he had brought with him, the expression on her face was much softer. "Thank you, Severus. These are really a big help… I only wish you didn't have to walk all the way up here to deliver them to me. You might have done a big harm to you in the state you are in…"

Severus shook his head. "I was walking slowly. But these are not my potions, they are creations of the students – and while acceptable, their potency is usually not as high as it should be. I didn't want them to become even less effective while using the Floo transfer…"

Pomfrey nodded. "Thank you," she repeated, promising to herself to properly examine him later for any ill effects of his trip up to her realm in his weakened state. For Pomona was right, she believed now that the boy was indeed not mourning You-Know-Who. A genuine Death Eater would not bother to provide her with the much needed potions in the safest way possible. "Drink your tea now, dear, it will do you well," she added quietly, her voice readopting a fond tone it used to held for him in the time of his schooling.

Pomona noticed the change and smiled at her over the boy's head. _I have told you,_ she mouthed and Poppy nodded. Then she too reached for her cup and they sipped on their tea in comfortable silence.

ooooo


	4. Chapter 4

**Celebrating Voldemort's Downfall**

**Chapter 4**

**by Iva12****01**

_A/N: I am happy that you still like my writing - thank you for your kind comments. (-:_

ooooo

_Hogwarts_

_Early November 1981_

Severus was really trying to follow the quiet conversation of Madam Pomfrey and Professor Sprout. Back when the women started to talk, he even managed to nod once or twice in the suitable moments. But now his eyes were closing, his head was dropping and his limbs felt terribly heavy. He knew he shouldn't fall asleep yet, not in front of the nurse in any case, but his body was not obeying his mind…

When the fragile china cup shattered on the floor and the last remainders of Severus's tea ended on his boots, both Madam Pomfrey and Pomona Sprout stared in the boy's direction for a moment taken aback – before realizing he was almost asleep again. The nurse was immediately on her feet, rushing to the young professor and shaking him by shoulders.

"Not yet, Severus, you cannot sleep now," she prompted, while nodding at Pomona to come and help her. "We must get him up and walking. It helped earlier, so we shall hope that it helps again."

The ever practical Pomona was instantly on her side, taking the boy by one arm while Poppy was already holding the other. As they were pulling him up, Professor Sprout asked curiously: "What would happen should he fall asleep before you give your consensus to it?"

Madam Pomfrey was shaking her head. "I do not know for sure, but I believe he would still end in a coma. The coffee he had earlier helped a bit, but he very likely ruined all the progress while walking the whole way up here. Foolish boy! He could have simply Firecalled or asked the Emergency House Elf to let us know that we were to pick up the potions…"

ooooo

Half an hour later, Severus was still walking around the nurse's office, heavily leaning on Pomona Sprout's shoulder but obediently following Madam Pomfrey's orders. The nurse was tending to yet another group of Butterbeer poisoning victims in the main Infirmary Hall, this time from the Ravenclaw Tower, leaving them on their own for the time being.

So far, they were quiet – except of a few politeness's. Now, Professor Sprout said unexpectedly: "I am very sorry she died."

Severus appeared startled. "Pardon me?" he questioned.

"Lily Potter. I am really sorry she died." The Herbology teacher repeated. "It was such a nice girl. … You grew up together, didn't you? I still remember the pair of you in your first year – I was so very surprised to see a Gryffindor and a Slytherin on such friendly matters. It is a shame that such a friendship couldn't survive the seven years of the interhouse rivalry…"

"Yes, a shame indeed," Severus repeated quietly, staring in front of himself. It had not been exactly interhouse rivalry what ruined them – rather his own stupidity. And now he would have to live with that thought until the end of his miserable life.

"I hope you will not mind that I am asking. Have you ever reconciled?" Pomona Sprout sincerely hoped they had managed to.

Severus was silent for a long time. After another twenty steps, he replied hesitantly: "No, we have never reconciled. And now we will never be able to…"

Professor Sprout felt genuinely sorry for them. "I am very sad to hear that… But no matter that, I am sure you both still cared for each other deeply. Please, accept my condolences."

Severus was not sure if he had any right to accept this comfort. He nodded anyway: "Thank you."

Professor Sprout smiled sadly and patted his arm. "You are welcome."

They continued their walk around the room then, again not speaking except of the necessary.

ooooo

When Madam Pomfrey opened the door to her office again, she looked tired. She gazed at Pomona and Severus slowly circling around the room, nodded satisfied at the boy's returning colour and, sitting behind her table, summoned five files of just treated pupils from the register of Ravenclaw students to note alcohol poisoning and its treatment there.

"This was much easier, now that I had the necessary potions at hand. Although I still don't think it was quite necessary – but we probably cannot expect any rational behaviour from our Headmaster, celebrating the fall of the second dark lord in his career," she sighed, sending the now updated students' files back to the Ravenclaw register.

The nurse was clearly not expecting any answer as she simply flicked her wand again to summon yet another file, this time one of the thicker ones from the teachers' register. If Severus would follow her doing instead of concentrating on his unsteady steps, he would have noticed his name on the top of it.

Madam Pomfrey opened the file and for a moment studied the latest entries there. Finished, she nodded, closed the file and requested that Pomona would lead the boy of a Professor to her. Professor Sprout complied and Severus was soon standing in front of her, his limbs slightly trembling but his eyes finally alert.

"So, young man," Poppy Pomfrey started, her normally kind voice suddenly stern, "I trust that you will not feel the need to repeat this stunt in the nearest future. I suppose that our estimated director will keep me well occupied even without such foolishness's."

She made a break to emphasize her next words. "No matter what has happened to you lately, this is not a behaviour I would expect of such a bright young man. If you are grieving, let yourself grief – should you be depressed, ask me for help. But do not try to forget in this hazardous way – it will bring you no real respite and you will only endanger your health and quite possibly even life. I do not wish to see you in a long-term coma or treat you because of a kidney damage or liver failure. All of which you are not far from."

She waited a moment for her words to sink in. Then she went on with explanation of what would happen next: "I will take you to the private room now and shall examine you more properly. If I am right in my estimation and you have by now metabolized the dangerous amount of the sedating substances, I shall let you sleep. But mind this – you will cooperate with me and should I say you need a Muggle IV to give you enough fluids or prescribe any potions, no matter their lower quality than what would be your standard, you will not protest. Are we agreed?"

Severus nodded mutedly, understanding that objections wouldn't help him anywhere.

"Excellent," Madam Pomfrey acknowledged a little less strict. "You will be quite likely out until tomorrow – or probably already today –" she glanced at the clock and nodded "– late afternoon or even early evening. The classes are not taking place – but are there any meetings or detentions that you need to cancel? Pomona could arrange it for you."

Severus shook his head no, surprised by the considerate offer. "Thank you," he added quietly and was again startled by the friendly smiles of the two women. He hadn't earned their trust or friendship. But his hollow heart warmed for having them both.

Madam Pomfrey nodded and stood. "Come now, I shall show you to the private room… Pomona, may I ask you to keep an eye on the children while I am gone?"

Receiving a nod from her friend, the nurse marched Severus out of the office. The boy will get better, she assured herself, firmly believing that something good must come even out of such an unfortunate day.

ooooo


	5. Chapter 5

**Celebrating Voldemort's Downfall**

**Chapter 5**

**by Iva1201**

ooooo

Severus woke up late next afternoon, the setting autumn sun bathing his bed in light and warming both his body and soul. For several moments, he lay there with his eyes still closed, feeling well rested and comfortable for the first time in many weeks. He was not thinking, simply enjoying this moment of peace, on some subconscious level well aware it wouldn't last long. And indeed, it didn't.

A fly landed on the top of his left hand and Severus tried to move the limb to chase the annoying insect away – without success. Alarmed, he opened his eyes and stared at the line of a Muggle IV Madam Pomfrey insisted he had last night. Snape shook his head in disbelief, abruptly recalling what had happened the day before. At first, he felt simply disgusted with himself for having proved himself unreliable to the Nurse when she had finally needed him. And then it kicked in, the reason why he had been so upset as to dose himself with an almost lethal dose of the Draught of Living Death…

_Lily. _

_His first friend. The shy little girl who was amazed by the strange magical world he was introducing to her, awe and admiration for his superior knowledge in her glittering green eyes._

_Lily. _

_His unlikely Gryffindor friend. The smart, increasingly popular teenage witch who loved studying Potions and Charms with him; the two of them hidden in a less frequented corner of the library or in Slughorn's classroom. Her green eyes sparkling with pride and happiness when they were praised for their achievements. _

_Lily._

_His estranged former friend. The girl whom he had thought to see value in everybody previously, including the werewolf Lupin or the good-for-nothing Pettigrew. The girl who started to date his childhood nemesis, Potter, after having hated him – or claiming so – for almost 5 years. The foolish Gryffindor who trusted the wrongest person possible, Black. _

_Lily._

_The beautiful young woman who refused to forgive him._

_For one single word. _

_Her green eyes flashing daggers at him as he called her the terrible name._

_Lily. _

_Lily was dead._

And then he cried, his thin body shaking with each painful sob.

ooooo

This was how Madam Pomfrey found him some time later, curled on himself, his immobilized left arm with the still connected IV line the only part of his body that seemed still.

"Oh dear," she whispered and walked towards the bed. She sat on the edge of the mattress, gently patting the shaking shoulders. "There, there, Severus," she whispered in a soothing tone, "let it all out. It's alright to grieve."

Her younger patients almost all discharged by now and the rest slumbering peacefully in the main Infirmary ward with the help of sleeping potions, well guarded by the Emergency House Elf, Poppy kept sitting on Severus's side, running her hand gently up and down the boy's back until his crying slowed down and he finally whispered: "I am so sorry."

It was not clear whom he was addressing, but the Nurse replied anyway. "I know you are, dear."

They were quiet then, he remaining curled on the bed and she keeping now a still hand on his back in silent support. Finally, many long moments later, he looked up at her, his eyes unmasked for once and said, genuine gratitude clear in his voice: "Thank you."

She nodded back, sounding as sincere as he: "You are welcome."

As simply as that they closed truce – the past wrongs forgiven and a way to a tentative friendship open.

ooooo

Madam Pomfrey left for a moment to arrange delivery of dinner for both him and the still infirmed children. Suddenly ashamed for his moment of weakness, Severus decided that it was the highest time to leave the ward – only to become once more aware of his still immobilized arm and the IV line connected to it.

The boy attempted to pull the line out – but found out he couldn't even touch it. Some sort of protection charm was cast on the devise so that the patient couldn't disturb it, or so Snape thought. But with the help of his wand… he might be able to deliberate himself.

Normally, his wand would be under his pillow – but since he wasn't thinking clearly last night, Madam Pomfrey took care of disposing it for him and left it most likely on or in his bedside table. Severus reached to there – but his wand was neither on the top of the tiny table, nor in any of its drawers. Sudden panic shot through him at this realization – to find himself completely defenceless didn't bore well with the spy in him, despite he would normally consider the Infirmary a safe place.

Severus's abruptly accelerated heart beat didn't go unnoticed by the Nurse who still had a monitoring charm on her patient. Well aware that the boy was not completely out of woods yet, Pomfrey instantly appeared on the threshold of the private room, worried for the boy's health – only to find herself stopping there at the sight of him, searching the room with frantic eyes.

For a moment, Poppy didn't quite know what to think of it, if the boy was lost in some kind of hallucination brought by the overdose of the hypnotics or if something else was happening – but then the boy's eyes fell on her, he frowned and – in a very different tone than earlier – demanded: "Give it back to me."

Taking in the harsh order, Poppy suddenly understood. _The boy was searching for his wand. _Greatly relieved, she couldn't help it but laughed; dismissing the boy's current bad manners without comment.

"Oh Severus," she said as soon as the outburst of her laughter died out and admitted: "You gave me quite a fright. I am sorry but you cannot have your wand back yet – I am not discharging you today and I would prefer you to not use any magic until tomorrow at least to give your body some more regeneration time. While the Draught of the Living Death should be metabolized by your body now, I would like to take this opportunity and treat you also for the poisoning I detected yesterday."

When he did not protest – pondering out what of the many healing and strengthening potions he had consumed during the last months of war could cause a strong enough poisoning for her to detect – she smiled a bit mischievously and said teasingly: "Be a good boy now and stay in bed for me. I will finish the evening rounds in the main ward and then I shall be right back to explain everything to you."

Severus stared at her retreating back. He would not be handled as a child, he thought annoyed, no matter how kind the nurse was to him otherwise. But even as this thought crossed his mind, he continued musing about the possible source of his poisoning, for the time-being forgetting his previous misery.

Later, he would silently thank to Madam Pomfrey for this time of respite – for it was one of the things that helped bring him safely through the turmoil that was to follow…

ooooo


End file.
